Alenhaten The Story of Mason
by Sukita Uchiha
Summary: This was one of the first stories I wrote. It's about a boy named Sarge finding and sort of taking care of this kid he finds on the streets whom he later names Mason.


**Alenhaten**

Sarge kicked a rock out of his way, shuffling down the street in bare feet with disappointment rolling off him in waves. He wore an angry scowl, his lips pursed, "Stupid Maris. Why does he get all the fun just because he's older?" he demanded to himself, "I mean, he's not that much older. Just, about…two…years…" He trailed off, staring in front of him. There was a little boy with near shoulder length, faded grey hair and earthy, light brown eyes. He wore a tattered and dirt stained white t-shirt and ripped brown shorts, also stained with dirt. Looking closer, he realized some of the dirt on his face was actually dried blood, like he'd gotten beaten up by somebody. He also…sat in a cardboard box and didn't say anything. His mouth looked like a little 'o' as he stared back, his arms curled around his knees as he hugged them to his chest. "Um…hey kid," he greeted, hoping to earn a response or a change in attitude. But nothing. He still sat there and didn't utter a single sound or syllable and didn't move. Sarge was seriously beginning to consider turning around and walking away. Only problem was, his legs and arms seemed to be working against him. He found that he'd picked the kid up in his arms, grasping the old ripped teddy the kid had had in the box with him. The boy still didn't move. Sarge was now starting to question if he was actually _alive. _He didn't even do anything!

He muttered something indistinctly to himself and walked down the street, kicking open the door to his rundown apartment. He used his foot to slam the door behind him. Walking into a small room with a cot stationed in the middle of the floor, a desk/dresser in the far right corner, and a door to the bathroom over on the left wall, Sarge sat the kid down on the cot, eyeing him. He looked like he hadn't taken a bath in forever. Ew…Sarge walked down the hall and opened a closet, pulling a beige towel from the shelf and throwing it at the kid. At first he didn't react, but he eventually grabbed the towel in his small fingers and pulled it, ruffling up his messy hair so that the shorter strands stood up in some places. He looked at Sarge questioningly, as if he didn't know what to do with it, "You gotta take a bath," he informed grimly, as if it was bad news for the little boy, "The towel is to dry yourself off when you get out so you don't drip all over the house," he explained. Sarge pointed to the door, "The bath's that way." The kid blinked a few times, and then stood up as if he hadn't used his legs in years. They shook and threatened to give out from underneath him and the way he stood, his feet angled towards each other. Sarge watched amazingly as he trudged towards the door, dragging his feet. When he reached the door, he began to push on it. He pushed again and again and again before planting his feet and now shoving the door. When he was worn out, he pursed his upper lip, shrugging up his sleeves.

Sarge watched, completely lost for words by now, as he started to tap the doorknob curiously. Not able to stand this anymore, he went over to the door, twisted the knob, and let him in. The kid blinked and stared up at him in amazement like he had just walked on water [which by the way wasn't that impossible…actually really easy], but STILL didn't say anything. He slowly walked inside and shut the door behind him. Sarge then completely realized he'd forgotten to give him a different pair of clothes. He shrugged, "I'll give it to him when he comes out." He walked into the den, switching the TV to life. He flipped boredly through the channels, his eyes drooping.

Several moments later, though not much later, he began to hear a distinct banging sound from the bathroom. He reluctantly heaved himself to his feet and, rubbing the back of his head distractedly, he opened the door…and froze. The kid was standing in the tub, Sarge found it amazing he even remembered how to get out of his clothes since he seemed to be completely hopeless, and he was banging his fist against the tub's faucet, trying to get the water out. "Hey, hey, whoa!" he yelled, waving his hands at the boy. He turned, his earthy brown eyes still holding a blank look amazingly while his face had a confused glaze to it, and blinked. He shrugged as if asking 'what am I doing wrong now?', but of course with no words. Sarge walked over and turned the faucet handles, warm-hot water spewing out of the opening and into the tub. Once it was full to a bit more than halfway, he switched it off. He put his hands on the kid's shoulders and pushed him down. He sat in the tub with a splash, getting the front of Sarge's shirt wet. Turning to the cupboard below the sink, he pulled out a yellow sponge and threw it at him, "Here. You get it wet and then get the soap," he pulled the bar of soap from the shelf above the toilet and handed it to him, "and rub the soap on the sponge." Sarge waited while the boy hesitated, then began to rub the soap up and down the wider side of the sponge. When he finished, he looked to Sarge for more directions. "Now take it and rub it across the parts of you that have dirt or the dried blood to get it off," he informed, taking his hand and rubbing it on his arm like a demonstration.

The kid titled his head to the side, but after watching the demonstration, he slowly rubbed the sponge on himself and rubbed until the dirt came off. While he washed himself, Sarge sat against the wall beside the tub and stared at the wall in front of him. "Hm…guess you need a name. Kind of annoying just to call you kid all the time," he mumbled. He began to reel off a list of name suggestions, "Well, there's…Saber…Dominor…Evanor…Morganen…Jakob…Cail…Mason…" At the name Mason, the kid's head turned to look at him as if he liked the name. Sarge cocked an eyebrow, "Mason? That's kind of a gay name," he said in disbelief, but the kid still looked as though he favored the name. Sarge blew a heavy sigh of defeat, "Fine. We'll call you Mason," he conceded.

When he was done, the newly named Mason stood up and tried to step over Sarge. He tripped and fell, but even now he didn't utter a single sound! What, was he a mute?! When he stood up again, he looked at the towel on the rack that was fastened into the wall. He pointed to it, the first real thing Sarge had seen him do, then pointed to himself. Sarge wasn't too sure of what he meant, but just nodded his reassurance. Mason wobbled over and snatched the towel and wrapped it around him. The towel was just about three sizes too big and draped around him like a cloak, dragging on the floor. It still draped against the floor even when Mason pulled the towel up a bit so that it also wrapped atop his head. He guided him out of the room after draining the tub, shut off the light, and closed the door. Mason plopped down on the cot as if he was exhausted from the night's 'adventures'. Sarge handed him the clothes, helping him settle into them. Little Mason, as he found he was starting to call him, took one glance at himself in the mirror before stripping to commando and tossing the clothes aside. He wandered back over to the cot and sat back down, stubbornly folding his arms across his chest. Sarge rubbed his head, "Well kid if you don't wear men's clothing what other clothing could their possibly be…Oh you have GOT to be kidding me…"

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Sarge handed the clothes to the cashier. He'd worry about other outfits later, but for now, he had picked out several items: a sleeveless green dress with a red bar and a white line straight down it and a white belt with two square holes folding right across it. It also had a green strap that folded across his shoulder on only one side. He'd also purchased a matching red, green, brown, and white hat, dark brown flats and white arm warmers. The final thing he'd purchased had been a pair of white, cloth, long-sleeved pajamas. The clerk eyed him suspiciously, raising one brow, "Shopping for your sister?" he questioned. Sarge let out an embarrassed sigh, "Nope. The little brother I never knew I had," he admitted. The clerk shook his head, "But these are women's clothes, son." "Yeah I know," he answered a-matter-of-factly. The clerk's eyes widened as Sarge gave him the exact amount and seized the clothing bag, charging through the door as fast as he could, "I just hope Mason hasn't managed to kill himself by the time I get there," he mumbled…then his footsteps picked up and he found himself running home as fast as he could.

When he had opened the door, he found Mason [still in his birthday suit] reaching for the open cupboard and the large box of gushers in the front. Sarge dropped the clothes on the table and walked over, grabbing the gushers box and handing it to him. Mason clutched it like it was a life preserver, carefully opening the top flaps and pulling out one of the packages. When Sarge tried to take the box back from him and store it away, Mason pulled away from him and hugged the box closer with a pursed lower lip. Sarge put his hands up in a slow down motion, "Okay, okay. The box is yours," he granted and Mason nodded once with satisfaction. He watched while shaking his head as Mason tore the package open and popped one of the gushers into his mouth. Sarge could've sworn he heard him say something; almost like he…cooed? It was hard to tell if he'd even said anything at all though. He was happy was all that he could say; Mason's expression still wasn't budging though. It was almost like it was rock solid. He disappeared down the hall and Sarge followed to watch him sit down on the mat, pull the covers over his head and start eating.

Rubbing the back of his head, one brow raised, Sarge sighed, "God, you are the strangest kid I've ever come across…" he observed. He walked over to him and tapped on his head. Mason appeared from beneath the covers and blinked. "Kid, I need you to uh," he shoved the clothes at him, "try these on. So I know if I've gotta return them," he added on. The kid didn't move at first, but eventually stood up and dressed himself, walcing over to the mirror to see what he looked like. And then he did the strangest thing: he started raising his arm up and down, tilting his head from side to side, and kicking his foot out eventually. It was like he was trying to figure out how to move again.

Suddenly, a heavy smash awoke Sarge from his thoughts. He looked over to see that the mirror had fallen, the glass shattered into a million pieces around it. He tried to take a step forward, but peered down to see that Mason was hugging his legs tightly like the fallen mirror had frightened him. Unsure of what to do, he just pat his hat – covered head comfortingly, muttering, "Um…you're okay, Mason. You're fine, nothing hurt you," he reassured. Mason just squeezed harder, confirming the idea that he was scared and, eventually, he had to grab the back of his dress and pull him back so that he would let go. And, as if nothing had happened, he ran over to the mat and proceeded with throwing the covers over his head and eating his gushers. Rolling his eyes, Sarge began to collect the pieces and threw them away, leaning the shattered mirror against the wall. As the day dragged on, Sarge found himself edging towards the idea of leaving him with a friend of Maris's in the hope that the kid would find somewhere else to stay…and stop eating all his gushers…

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By the time night came, Sarge had to admit the kid wasn't all that bad. He stayed quiet, didn't ask for much, and when he did, he just took the liberty of getting it himself. Sometimes it was annoying, but when Sarge didn't feel like doing it, he did it himself which was convenient. The scary part about it was that he seemed to know where everything was.

Sarge grabbed the pajamas he'd bought and shuffled into the room, his head dizzy with exhaustion. He tossed the clothing to Mason who took one look at it and pushed it to the side, stubbornly putting his arms across his chest. Sarge groaned, "Come on, don't be difficult. And you can't sleep in your clothes. It's just…nasty!" he contradicted. Mason turned to the side a bit more, then looked as though he'd gotten a brilliant idea. Taking off his clothing, he went all commando again and sat down with satisfaction. Sarge's eyes were wide with disbelief, shock, and anger mixing all at once. "Aw, Mason! Put some pajamas on please!" Mason stood up and found a piece of posterboard he had taken for no reason yesterday. Snatching hold of a pencil, he drew a small, notecard size square on it and cut it out with Sarge's kitchen scissors. He pulled it from the larger poster and wrote something on it, then attached the back of it to the pencil he'd been using to write with. When he stood up, Sarge realized he'd written pajamas in bold letters, then crossed it out with a giant 'X'. Sarge slapped his forehead when Mason started parading around the mat with the sign in his hand as if he were going on a strike. Sarge groaned, smacking his hands to his head, "Alright fine! Sleep naked for all I care," he grumbled and stomped out of the room.

Mason sat down obediently, shoving the sign under his pillow. After folding his clothes neatly in the corner by the dresser, he plopped down on the mat and pulled the covers below his chin. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.

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Sarge awoke Mason gently by shaking his shoulder until the boy's eyes opened. He sat up, staring at Sarge with barely opened, sleep – filled eyes. "Come on kid. We're uh, going out to see a friend of mine. But, do yourself a favor," he added when he was about to stand up and walk out the door. Sarge picked up his clothes from the dresser, he shoved them into his empty hands, "Put some clothes on," he finished. Mason didn't look like he comprehended a word he'd just said, but eventually walced into the bathroom and Sarge heard the familiar shuffling sounds as he donned into his clothes, then the water of the faucet. Wearing a confused look, he trudged over and opened the door…and froze for the second time since the kid had gotten here. He stood over the sink, his hand moving back and forth as he swiped the toothbrush across his perfectly white teeth [though that was odd for a kid like him who'd been on his own for obviously too long]. He admired that the boy cared for his hygiene, but the only issue he had with this was…he hadn't bought him a toothbrush. Mason was using his, "'Kay. Guess I'll be buying myself a new toothbrush," he griped.

Mason seemed to ignore him while continuing to brush, and it was only then that Sarge realized that he was standing on his tip-toes. He also realized that he had no idea how old the kid was, "Hey Mason," the boy turned to him immediately, "How old are you exactly?" Mason seemed to ponder this for two minutes or so before holding up all five fingers on one hand and then he was doing something really odd. Though Sarge had gotten used to that by now; the kid was weird, that was all there was to it. Mason seemed to be flickering between one and two fingers on the other hand, "Six?" He shook his head, "Seven?" The boy shook his head again, "Six or seven?" he revised. Mason gave one, hard nod with satisfaction before reaching over the sink again to grab Sarge's brush. He watched with wide-eyed shock as Mason began to pull the brush through his tangled hair until he could pull it out with no knots. Only then did he place his hat firmly atop his hair, his bangs hanging in his face, and stared up at Sarge expectantly.

Sarge sighed. He walked over to the closet outside the room and pulled out a small pack, after which he proceeded to the kitchen and stuffed the two boxes of gushers he had into it along with the pajamas, even though he knew Mason wouldn't wear them. Walking back into the room, he found Mason wearing the first expression he'd ever seen in awhile: sad confusion as he stared at the bag. Sarge found himself avoiding his gaze at all costs while he packed the rest of his clothing, a small blanket, a towel, and cushion that could be substituted for a pillow.

He extended his hand and Mason took it, holding to it lightly as they walked out the door. Sarge first pulled his key from his pocket and shoved it into the lock, twisting it from side to side until the gears finally clicked to the left and locked the door. Mason slipped his small feet into the flats, retook hold of Sarge's hand and followed him closely across the street and retreated into the wood.

After a half hour or so of walking, it seemed like Mason had finally had it and he sat down, refusing to go any further. With a groan, Sarge picked him up in his arms and swiped his bag into his hands while switching Mason onto his back. He started on again, finding that he was getting tired of this himself. He was about to quit and turn around when he walked into a clearing to find an abnormally sized black wolf standing in front of him. Now, a normal person would've turned and run if they had any sanity left in them. But Sarge knew who this was, "Hey Keenan, turn back, you're gonna scare the kid," he rebuked. The wolf rolled his large black eyes before Sarge heard the bones creak until there was a tall, black haired boy standing in front of him, "You give him a name yet?" was his first query. Sarge looked like he was mock pouting, "What no hello?" Keenan didn't look amused. With a roll of his eyes, he answered, "Yeah. The kid's name is Mason." Keenan stifled a snicker, "Mason's a bit of a gay name. Why did you call, him…why is he dressed in girl's clothing?" he demanded, breaking off mid-sentence. Sarge chuckled nervously, "That's just it. The kid's a bit…out of it I guess you could say."

Keenan raised an eyebrow, "Explain?" "Well, let's see. I'll give you a list: he doesn't talk, he likes girls, he prefers to wear somewhat girly clothing, he sleeps nude, refuses to wear pajamas, and will only eat gushers. Well there's the occasional slice or two of cheese, but that's about it. Shall I continue?" Keenan's eyes were just about popping by this point. At the question, he waved his hands, "No, no I think I've heard enough," he assured, rushing through his statement. "So, why did you need ME to take him?" he asked, moving on from the kid's 'issues' topic. Sarge sighed, looking down at the small boy still clutching his hand though now it was with both of his hands, "Well, the kid, I mean Mason, was in a freaking box when I found him and covered with dirt and dried blood so I couldn't just leave him. But I can't really take care of him either. I've gotta find Maris cause he should've been home by now. It's worrying me, but I can't take Mason with me and I won't drop him off in the streets again. Will you please?" he begged, dropping the bag beside him. Mason immediately tussled his hand away from Sarge and ripped the zipper down the opening and digging through it until he found the gushers. Sitting with a pleased aura by Sarge's feet, he started shoving them one by one into his mouth. Sarge pointed his hands at the boy with a desperate look on his face, "I can't deal with this!" he pleaded.

Keenan sighed, "Yeah but, listen. I already got three of my own to worry about," he admitted. Sarge immediately straightened, "You've got kids?" "Well, yeah Sarge. Two boys, Haruko and Corby, and then one girl, Desha," he explained further. If it had been any other time but now, Sarge would've proceeded to point his finger at him and laugh hysterically. But he was trying to get this guy to do him a favor so he thought better of it. Especially when he noticed how sad Keenan looked at the mention of him having kids in the first place. Either something happened to the mother, or the kids, but he didn't bother asking him, "So will you?" he switched his attention from the subject for the reason of just distracting him from his issues and for the sake that he needed to get moving if he was to find Maris in time. Keenan stood there, his lips pursed together thoughtfully before he finally groaned, sighed, then straightened, "Alright, I'll take him off your hands. But I'm going to give him to some friends, well, sort of friends of mine." "Why them instead of you?" Sarge demanded. Keenan smirked amusingly, "I think he'll fit in with these guys better than he will with me," he said mysteriously, causing Sarge to frown. But he didn't have time. He zipped the bag back up after taking the gushers box from a reluctant Mason and handed it to him. Mason followed after the bag, most likely because he saw it as his source of food. Boy, kids his age were so easy to amuse these days!

Keenan quickly swept the little boy into his arms and disappeared across the clearing. Sarge waved after them, knowing Mason could still see him. He was staring over Keenan's shoulder with his confused look planted on his face again, "Bye, Mason," he murmured before turning his back and withdrawing from the clearing and past his apartment, "Well looks like you're not the only one who gets to have fun, Maris," Sarge mumbled to himself and leapt atop the apartment complexes and out the city limits.

Mason stared at the new kid who held him, tapping his shoulder questioningly. Keenan turned to the source of the tap, a slightly annoyed glaze across his face. Mason didn't seem to notice this as he indicated that he had to use the little boy's room and quick. Keenan swiftly set him down and he ran over to a bush, vanishing from sight as the black haired boy sighed, "This is gonna be a long trip…" he mumbled as Mason returned, shifting into his medium sized wolf forum and allowing Mason to jump onto Keenan's back with a rapid bound. He set off again, keeping to a slow trot to keep Mason from falling off as they crossed the canyon. The bridge across it was rickety and not well put together and Keenan could see that it scared the kid terribly, telling this by how he shoved his face between the wolf's broad shoulders and how his fingers locked tenaciously around his neck fur. Rolling his eyes, Keenan allowed his wings to spread, giving them a good flap and flying to the other side. A few steps of the bridge fell from where he'd recently been, but the damage didn't extend farther than that, "You can open your eyes now kid," he informed, feeling the pressure on his neck slacken as he released his grip and the weight between his shoulders disappear as he brought his head up. The kid didn't say anything and kept a straight face even after that. Keenan had to give it to him: he had guts to even be on Keenan's back without him having to force him on.

For another several miles Keenan kept his wings out before bringing them in when he found what he was looking for: the village. He didn't bother to phase back; the people here knew who they were really seeing when a black wolf this size was around. Now of course, when it was a brown wolf, they knew otherwise.

As he slowed his trot to a brief walk, he was greeted by the two men who stood guard outside, "Welcome back Keenan," came one voice. It was chorused by the other man as Keenan dipped his head and continued on inside. He glanced around the houses, finding a few familiar faces as he passed, before finding the apartment he was looking for. He phased into his human form, the one he most commonly used here, and set Mason down beside him, holding his hand. He tapped on the door with his knuckles and was met by the kid most commonly known as the 'number one, hyperactive, knucklehead ninja'. "Keenan! Hey!" came Naruto's voice. Keenan smirked, shaking his head before raising his hand in response, "Hey Naruto. I thought you'd be out training?" "Yeah, Kakashi – sensei isn't here and he promised to teach me something new," he admitted. Keenan huffed, "That's never stopped you before," he reminded with a tease. Naruto straightened, "Yeah. You're right!" he exclaimed and raced out the door, "Tell 'er where I am, kay?" he asked before disappearing down the rays of apartments. He passed by Sasuke and Sukita's and Keenan made a mental note to visit them while he was here. Walking inside, he shut the door behind him. He was instantly greeted by Haruko, "Hey dad," he received. Keenan nodded, "Hey, Haruko. How are you?" "Eh, can't complain," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders, "Alpha and I are going to run a few errands for Tasca. Need anything while we're out?" Keenan whispered something in his here, making Haruko raise his brow, "Cheese?" "The kid," he replied, indicating towards Mason. Haruko seemed to understand and left without another word.

He walked further inside, ordering Mason to sit down on the couch and stay there without touching anything. Meanwhile, he stepped a few feet away, "Tasca?" he called, and was answered with a "Kotori you cook in my closet again and I'll think of something worse than not letting you be on the Cheerleading squad!" she yelled. Keenan chuckled amusingly as Tasca came back down the stairs, freezing when she saw him, "You're not dumping another kid here are you?" she demanded. Keenan rolled his eyes at her, "Naw. I'm actually wondering if you could tell me where the Twins are," he admitted ruefully as soon as he caught Tasca's horrified look, "Why would anyone in their right mind want to FIND them?!" she exclaimed. Keenan sighed, "It's a long story that I don't feel like explaining." Tasca shrugged, "Fine. Whatever. Deal with your own problems. Anyways, about the twins, they went downtown to rob a bank." Keenan flinched with the awkward sense he had whenever he heard of the Twins doing something absolutely ridiculous, "But it's broad daylight." "I know." "What're they wearing?" "All black," she answered promptly as if she'd rehearsed this. Keenan shook his head, "I swear, I don't know what goes on in their heads." "Why would you want to?" Keenan tried to make a comeback, but decided that there wasn't any reason too, "Guess you've got a point."

Someone knocked on the door, making Tasca yell, "Oh no they're back! Hide me!" she begged and shot up the stairs. Keenan reeled his eyes again and stepped over the clutter, including Kotori's supposed cheerleading outfit, and answered the door. As he'd expected, it was the Twins, "Hey guess what? We didn't get caught!" yelled Kocorow. "But we didn't get anything either," Keoshii added. Keenan groaned. Was this how Tasca felt every single day? Guess so. "Hey guys," he called, trying to catch their attention from their conversation. After a few more comments, they finally turned to look at him, "Yeah, what can we do for you pal?" "Listen guys, I know this sound completely and utterly insane –" "Oooh, now I really wanna know," interrupted Keoshii. Keenan ignored him, "As I was saying, I need you guys to uh, take care of this kid for me," the words rushed together as he called for Mason. The kid appeared from behind the couch, eyeing the newcomers with no curiosity whatsoever. "Keoshii, Kocorow, this is Mason," he introduced. Mason didn't do anything when Kocorow stuck out his hand and declared, "Nice to meet ya kiddo!" Keoshii was still looking at Keenan, "Why d'ya need us to do it?" "I don't know. He has some issues, a few of which kinda match you guys. Should I make a list?" "It would help," Keoshii assured with a smile, "Well let's see here: he only eats cheese and gushers, he will only wear somewhat girly clothing, a bit rebellious, refuses to wear pajamas so he sleeps naked, likes girls I suppose, and is just about mentally helpless and incompetent." "Whoa slow down," Kocorow reeled. "Why?" "Cause I can't write that fast," he explained, holding up his pen and pad of paper.

Keenan repeated the list at least three more times before Kocorow actually got it right. Afterwards, Keoshii had slapped his back so hard it knocked the breath right from him, "Don't you worry buddy, we'll take good care of the kid and teach him everything we know!" That didn't reassure Keenan one tiny bit. In fact, it worried him into thinking he'd made the wrong decision.

But when he heard Tasca from upstairs saying, "Oh God Doll how many times have I told you not to go near Kotori when he's attempting to cook?!" he waved a quick goodbye to Mason and officially left him in the care of the Twins.

Or otherwise frightfully known as…The Playboy Brothers. Oh how reassuring the day continued to get.

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The Twins had taken Mason to their apartment, keeping their scary promise to teach the kid everything they knew. And when they said everything, they literally meant everything…Keoshii was finishing up his part of the lesson, "And that's what you do when someone tries to rape you," he ended. By now, Mason's eyes hadn't even started popping out of his skull like any sane person's would. But of course, Mason wasn't exactly sane in his state, "Do you get it?" he pressed. Mason just nodded, still refusing to give real responses. "Oh, and the most important thing you must learn is this: whenever you're near a cute girl, just think, WWKD?" Mason tipped his head to the side questioningly and Keoshii clarified, "What Would Keoshii Do?"

Kocorow announced from the kitchen, "Hey Keoshii Tasca's coming!" he warned. Keoshii smirked. "Okay kid, time to try out your new knowledge. You ready?" Mason just hopped down from his seat and walced comfortably into the kitchen, pulling another package of gushers from the cupboard. "Keoshii, how many of those has he had today?" "Including that one, it'll be his fifth." "It's only noon," Kocorow pointed out. Keoshii nodded knowingly just as Tasca allowed herself in and found her way to the kitchen, "Alright Mason. Greet Auntie Tasca just like we taught you." Tasca looked a bit wary when Mason approached her, but that wariness soon turned to shock as Mason screamed his first word. His voice was soft and almost silky, small just like any other six year old's voice as he yelled, "RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!" and sprinted around her, headed for the safety barricade he'd created with the couch cushions, putting a hard helmet that was too big for his small head over his forehead and pulling out a water gun. Wanting to fit in, or for whatever reason she had, Tasca yelled "Rapist! Rapist! Rapist!" in return. Keoshii was in the kitchen, meanwhile, laughing his head off, "He taught himself the whole barricade fiasco!" he hollered, shaking as he fell on the floor with laughter. Kocorow followed suit, though he managed to stand on both legs, "Yeah, he sure is something!"

Go figure. Tasca was trying to blame rape on a six year old. That was SO like her…

So Mason ended up deciding to stay with the Twins with Tasca, of course, checking up on him every few weeks or months if the reminder 'slipped her mind'. Mason actually did well and Keenan and Sarge kept up with visiting…whenever they felt like it that is. And Maris ending up visiting his adopted 'little brother' on occasion as well. It was only after three months of being with the Twins that everyone realized two things they needed to add to the kid's long list of problems. But this time, they were problems they could sort of handle: First, Mason didn't age. He was six forever. And second, Mason could use the eyesight of others to aid his own sight. If he wanted the perspective of someone else's view, he could simply think about them and their sight became his. Vise versa. If Mason wished for someone to see things his way, they could do so by saying his name aloud. Go figure; a little forever-six year old with infinite sight. Yeah, the Twins should be so lucky…


End file.
